


colourful charade

by thatapostateboy



Series: plant your hope with good seeds [1]
Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Language, I dont know what the rules are but I know it makes some people uncomfortable so I tagged, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Pre-Canon, tagged for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 11:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatapostateboy/pseuds/thatapostateboy
Summary: It was the day after her sixteenth birthday that Genevieve de Sardet broke a man’s nose for the first time.A fic about a young de Sardet, her more exasperated mother and an introduction.





	colourful charade

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I'm like in love with this game, and I have a lot of feelings about the characters.  
Please feel free to send me prompts or just yell about this game with me over on my tumblr @thatapostateboy

It was the day after her sixteenth birthday that Genevieve de Sardet broke a man’s nose for the first time. There had been plenty of times before that incident where it had been an option she had considered; any number of cruel boys or even crueller adults at court took the opportunity to pass comment on the curling green mark upon her cheek, coming up with increasingly more ludicrous reasons for its existence; an infection, a curse, the true beginning of the Malichor.

It had angered her so much, to listen to people who did not know her judging her for something that she had been born with. Her relation to the royal family saved her any public ridicule, but it was the whispers behind her back that truly hurt her more. It was for that reason that her mother had trained her young how to always strive towards diplomacy. She was a lady of the court, niece to the Prince D’Orsay, she would need to know how to navigate the delicate dealings and political backstabbings that came with that role.

From a young age, she took to those lessons with great enthusiasm, finding a talent within herself for the intrigue and game of it all. She never truly agreed with the secrecy and the way that the nobility clung to their titles even at the expense of the major populace, but she loved knowing how to play them to get what she wanted.

It didn’t stop many of the rumours, but whatever words spread, everyone held a respect for the young Lady de Sardet, for so quickly learning how to play.

And yet, none of it mattered in that moment that she stood in her mother’s room, her usually tidy hair falling loose from her braids, mud on her dress. It was not a fully unusual state of dress, having been a tearaway child, always running off on adventures with her cousin. But the true part that stood out was that her hand was swollen and shaking in pain, a smear of someone else’s blood still on it.

Princess de Sardet let out a heavy sigh as she took in the sight of her daughter, “The guards tell me you punched a boy.”

Genevieve looked away dejectedly. Of course the guards had been the ones to tell on her. The members of the Coin Guard were some of the only people in the palace that she could never wrap her head around. The only way of making this whole incident go away would have been to pay them, but unfortunately, they answered to her mother and her uncle before her.

“I thought I taught you well,” she said, “What is the one thing I told you always to remember, my child?”

“That we are meant to use our words before anything else,” Genevieve muttered.

“And yet, you broke a boy’s nose, and injured your poor hand in the process,” she gestured to her daughter’s shaking hand.

Genevieve let out a huff, trying to defend herself, “But Mother…”

Princess de Sardet put her hand up to quiet her child, “Darling, you are a lady, not a soldier. Whatever happened, it is not your duty to take such actions.”

“But-” she tried to interject to no avail.

“We will have to organise some sort of apology to appease the boy’s family before news of this spreads too far, perhaps an opportunistic marriage arrangement or a position at court or-”

“I had no choice!” she blurted out.

Her mother’s eyebrows raised high, “I’m sorry?”

“Constantin and I had a break between our lessons, so we decided to venture into the city for a few hours. We were careful, we didn’t wear our recognisable clothes. We thought it would be fun to sneak into the Coin Tavern. We had a drink together, we weren’t bothering anyone, when suddenly this boy came up to us. He was a few years older, but I recognised him as the eldest son of the Laval family. Unfortunately, he had recognised us as well, and thought he would take the opportunity whilst he was well into his cups and away from the court to openly tell me in front of the entire tavern what he thought of me. He called me a cursed bitch who wasn’t even worthy of being downstairs with the tavern whores. He told me that his younger brother had contracted the malichor and wondered if slitting my throat would cure him,” she told her.

“That wretched boy. I will ensure he pays for this public scene, I promise you that,” her mother nodded, deep in thought, “So that is when you punched him?”

“Not entirely,” Genevieve said, “It was then that dear Constantin attempted to come to my rescue. He denounced him, threatened to have his tongue for the threats against his fair cousin, and told him that he would regret ever laying eyes on me. At which point the Laval boy laughed and told Constantin that he was a weaselly little bastard and his father would disown him before he ever disappointed everyone enough to take the throne. He then knocked Constantin to the ground and was going to attack him. I grabbed my mug and threw it at him to get his attention away from Constantin… And _that_ is when I punched him.”

“I see.”

Her mother rose from her desk and paced to the window looking out across her view of the city, quiet for a long moment.

Genevieve took a deep breath, but held her head high, “I know my duty, mother, and my duty will always be to protect Constantin. Through whatever means necessary. It wasn’t the situation for words, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. If you wish to punish me for that, I will accept it, but I will not regret my actions.”

The Princess de Sardet turned to look back at her daughter, letting out a drawn out sigh, “I need time to think on this. For now, return to your room and I will make sure someone sees to your hand… But thank you for telling me the truth. I will make sure appropriate punishments are dealt out.”

~*~*~

It was later that evening as she sat curled up in her armchair by the fire reading a book, that she heard her door open. She smiled to herself, not even looking up. There was only one person who ever came in without knocking.

“Good evening, dear cousin,” she said.

“My fair cousin, I have been desperate to come here to speak with you,” Constantin said, eagerly taking his usual seat in the chair opposite hers, “Once we were hauled back here by the guards, and then separated to be lectured by our mothers, I haven’t had the time to thank you.”

She set her book down, “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I do,” he nodded, “Had you not been there with me, I do not know what would have happened.”

“You wouldn’t have started a fight with a boy nearly twice the size of you,” she pointed out with a smirk.

“The brute started it himself when he insulted you,” he said, “I could not stand to hear him say such foul things about you.”

“I can handle myself, Constantin,” she reminded him.

“I know, but we look after each other. It’s what we do… Though you are more likely to be the one looking after me. My lucky star. Always there to pull me out of my fires… I cannot believe that you truly broke his nose,” he said with a hum of laughter.

“And near broke my hand doing it,” she said, raising her bandaged hand. A healer had dealt with it for her, but had told her to rest it for the evening to prevent any further damage.

“Has your mother doled out any punishment yet?” he asked, “My father was furious, hearing that I was nearly part of a bar brawl in broad daylight. He was in the middle of lecturing me about disappointment and responsibility when your mother came in to talk to him. He sent me to my room and I’ve not heard a thing since.”

“Neither have I,” she admitted, “I’m starting to find this lack of clarity worse than any punishment they come up with.”

It was then that a soft knock came at the door. Genevieve rose to her feet, calling out for them to enter.

Her mother swept into the room, greeting her nephew with a respectful nod.

“The Prince and I have been in discussion,” she told them, “The Laval boy has received his due justice for his actions in the tavern. It is safe to say that their family is now in disgrace for so openly insulting and nearly assaulting the prince’s son and niece. As for the two of you… Though you prevented a worse fight from occurring, you both still snuck out of the palace without informing anyone, spent the afternoon in a tavern, and then injured a young man of the nobility. Whatever your intentions, this is something that cannot be ignored. You will both gather in the courtyard immediately after breakfast tomorrow.”

“What for?” Genevieve asked.

“You will find out in the morning. For now, rest well, both of you. You have a long day ahead of you,” she said with a quirk of her eyebrow and she left the room, leaving the two cousins staring at each other dumb-founded.

~*~*~

The next morning after an awkwardly quiet breakfast, the pair made their way to the courtyard as instructed, neither of them knowing what to expect. They found the Princess de Sardet waiting for them with a man of the Coin Guard, older than them by ten years, dark hair shorn at the sides, scars marking his face.

“If my endless instruction on the matters of court cannot keep you both from trouble after all these years, you both need to know what to do when trouble finds you,” she said, then looked to the man beside her, “This is Kurt, our Master of Arms. He will be taking on your combat instruction from now on.”

Both Genevieve and Constantin’s eyes went wide as they looked from him to her.

“Combat?” Constantin asked, voice dry.

“Yes, dearest nephew,” she nodded, “You must both be prepared for whatever life may throw at you. Your lessons with Kurt will be worked into your daily schedule, but you will be with him all day today. Learn from him. His lessons may one day save your life.”

She gave a regarding nod to Kurt, who returned it with, then she left them in the courtyard with him. They both looked at each other before Kurt let out a gruff chuckle, folding his arms across his chest.

“So, Your Excellencies,” he said, “I hear that someone needs to teach you dainties how to properly break a man’s nose without breaking your hand… Let’s get started.”


End file.
